Weary Eyes
by Valentina-Lestrange
Summary: She has to see him, just one more time, though he would not care if he never saw her again. She just has to warn him, warn him before it's too late. Even if he doesn't listen. She has to try. Oneshot. Hints of JP/BL and JP/LP


**Authors Notes: Hiya guys. This is a fic I've been working on for a few days now. I finally caught a plot bunny *dances*. Ahem, anyhow. Yeah, this was inspired by the prompts I was given on the '3' Challenge over at HPFC (seriously, head over there it is just complete awesomeness). I think the end may be rushed, but I was just glad to write something... though technically I should be doing coursework for my Humanities GCSE.... Oh well, I have another 9 days before it's handed in. I can manage xP**

* * *

Weary Eyes

'Encumbered forever by desire and ambition

There's a hunger still unsatisfied

Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon

Though down this road we've been so many times,'

_High Hopes - Pink Floyd_

_------_

London was asleep. Her many eyes closed shut and hidden behind unfeeling and bitter drapes of cloth. Her skin, made up of so many colours and textures, was speckled with dots of orange and yellow from the gloomy sentry of streetlamps guarding her while she dreamt wonderful and impossible dreams for her children. Oh how she would conjure up ludicrous plans that would drop them from their dreams strung up so high in the clouds, in the silvery and fluffy clouds of what might've been.

The pavement at London's feet was cold and harsh. The surface covered by a callous blanket of scattered leaves, litter, gum and frost - they had made their home there, their tiny vicious hands clawing into London's skin, a blemish on her prosperous face.

It was on this pavement that a pair of expensive shoes were propped up on. They were black velvet with an clasp in the form of a snake around the ankle. Their heels where high; though the owner was of such a height that she did not need them. They were not untidy or scuffed but they were well worn; well worn in a way that would make one wonder where the shoes had walked. What stories would they be able to tell of the wonderful horizon that London could scarcely even imagine?

* * *

The woman who owned the pair of shoes was in her twenties. She was sat on the doorstep of number 07 Hollyborough Crescent. She had a torrent of black curls swept over her shoulder and tied with a red ribbon. Her eyes were the thick and choking grey of suffocating smoke and were heavily lidded. She pulled the collar of her thick woollen jacket closer to her neck and took a long drag off of the cigarette she was holding in her right hand leaving a fuchsia lip-print on the bottom. On her left hand she was twisting a gold wedding ring on and off of her finger as she pondered over her frivolous thoughts.

She needed to see him. She knew, right down in the pit of her stomach she knew, that it would not bother him if he never laid eyes on her again. She had known that long ago - not accepted, known. Still, she couldn't bear the thought of what could happen to him if she didn't see him one more time. Merlin knows he was on the wrong side and Merlin knows she should hate him with all that was left of her heart, but something, a tiny flicker of good in the cancer consuming her heart perhaps, had dragged her to sitting on the doorstep of a dingy old house in the suburbs of London in the freezing fog of the morning.

She quickly stubbed out her cigarette on the floor as she saw an old and battered car draw up to the side of the pavement on her side of the road. She watched as a man her age with scruffy black hair, large hazel eyes behind black-rimmed glasses and the swagger of a teenage ringleader got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. She smiled wickedly to herself - she knew she would find him here. Her cousin Sirius had been great friends with him; she had tortured the street name out of a half-blood

She drew back in the shadows for a second; she needed to check if that woman was with him. But there was no sign of his annoying red-headed Mudblood of a wife. From behind the brick wall, she gave a start and then looked curiously as she thought she saw the woman's eyes in the back seat - a pair of round green eyes where staring at her curiously. She realised it was a baby boy who was more or less a year old. He ignored his daddy as he opened the car door and unclipped him from his baby seat - he simply lifted his arms up ready to be picked up.

* * *

"What're you staring at Harry?" the man asked. He looked behind him and then shrugged as he saw no one, "Lets see Snuffles shall we?" he said in a cheery tone. He continued to walk down the street until he walked right in front of her digging into his pockets for something - keys maybe.

"James," she called out. She moved out from her hiding place as he turned around, his eyes wide with shock as he tried to register who was speaking. His expression turned stony and he looked less than happy to see her.

"What're you doing here Bella?" the man named James asked with a sigh, turning away as he tried to sort out a key from the bundle he had just extracted from his pocket. She never changed - always there when she was least wanted to cause trouble and pain. His son, who he had balanced precariously on his hip, continued to stare at her.

"Let's not bother with trivial talk James, I haven't got the time and this is important," she started, quickening her perfected strut so she could catch up with him.

"Everything seems to be important according to you Bella," he mocked with a hollow laugh. He stopped as they reached the spot where No. 11 Hollyborough Crescent met No. 13. He put down the bag he had slung over his shoulder and let out a long breath. Without looking at her then said "Look Bella, I'm married and I have a kid now, can't you just leave me alone? It was fun while it lasted, but I have responsibilities now,"

"Oh darling Jamesy-poo, I'm not here to talk about that crap. You're not the only one with a ring on their finger," she said in her usual patronising tone, wiggling her ring finger at him. He looked at it briefly over his shoulder and snorted. Marriage or not, he wouldn't put anything past her. She used any scrap of information she could to have one over on someone and she knew too much. Far too much.

"I'm here on business,"

* * *

He looked up with a remarkably expressionless face. No trace of emotion could be seen in his eyes, "So, he got you too, huh?" he stood up and stretched, turning and clicking his back as he did so, "You can tell him the answer's still no - for both of us,"

"James," she said, looking at him with her grey eyes full of a mixture of her usual roguish, egotistical charm and a not so familiar seriousness, "James, don't be a fool, this is serious,"

Her face might've been one of concern but her voice, despite the serious edge, certainly betrayed no hint of care, "This isn't a proposition, it's an order!" she said shifting her weight onto one leg and placing her left hand on her waist. The cuff of her sleeve was pulled up slightly and he could see it - the mark.

"You've been marked? I thought only the highest ranking Death Eaters got marked?" his voice was dangerously low - he sounded angry this time and he looked up at her over the top of his glasses, "Do you know what you people have done?"

She rolled her eyes and ran her tongue across her top lip, "James," she started, flicking her hair back.

"No Bella!" he snapped, "This is wrong - what you are doing, what you stand for is wrong. It's evil!"

"I'm standing up for what I believe in James, is that so bad? Is that so terrible?"

"Yes, Bellatrix, it is. These people who you hunt down like filth have done nothing wrong to you apart from being born with a 'lesser blood-status' whatever that bullshit is," he replied with the sharpness of a knife, "They have done nothing - nothing - to harm you,"

"They are stealing everything that it is ours James - ours. With their filthy dirty-blooded hands they steal things from us; out jobs, our money, our families-"

"Oh not Andromeda again; Bellatrix she is not a child,"

"Leaving her family in the dead of night with nothing but a piece of paper with a few vague words of goodbye for her so called 'loved ones'? Seems pretty childish to me,"

"You're being your selfish self Bella. She's happy, let her be,"

* * *

They both paused and didn't look at each other as the uncomfortable silence held them in a moment of complete anger. "I'm not doing anything wrong. This is a worthwhile cause, James, I'm fighting for my rights as a pureblood," she said insistently, leant against the wall and curling one of her locks around her index finger.

"You rights as a pureblood? Since when does fighting for your rights involve torturing and murdering innocent people?" he spat the words out as if they were giving his mouth a disgusting taste. He looked at her in amazement and confusion; almost as if he didn't recognise the woman in front of him. He seized her left arm so she winced in pain, "You were always vain and prejudiced Bella, but now I see something far more dramatic. How many people did you kill in cold blood to get this, hmm? How many lives have you shattered, how many families have you torn apart? How many?"

"Well you can talk! Look at me, I'm James Potter, self proclaimed King of Hogwarts. Look at me while I go bully people who are less popular than I am!" she shouted back, "Look at me, now I'm a member of Dumbledore's little Army of his favourite students - I go around killing people who I don't understand,"

"Oh so I'm the one who kills people he doesn't understand? Well that's rich coming from you, you little-"

* * *

Harry started to wail from where he had been squished between the two adults. James stepped back from where he'd kept her backed against the wall. Looking flustered, he let out a loud and tired groan as he ran his fingers through his already messy hair, "Oh for Merlin's sake, where's his dummy?" He tried to look for it whilst trying to juggle Harry and his keys, "Oh for fuck's sake-" he growled, "Hold him for me would you 'Trix?" Without waiting for an answer, the toddler had been pushed into her reluctant arms.

She didn't have any trouble looking after children - after all, it was her who'd looked after her baby sisters when her father was drunk and her mother was too distressed. However, the brats of Mudblood mothers were a different story. She pulled a disgusted face as Harry seemed to wail at her in particular with a stroppy face and snot dribbling out of his nose and down his chin. In his little tantrum, he started hitting her with his tiny fists and yanking her hair. She pulled a tissue out from her pocket and wiped the snot off of his face which made him even grumpier. She rolled her eyes and shifted him to a more comfortable position on her hip, leaning her face and neck away from sticky little hands.

"Of all the children to fucking have you had to have a fucking problem child didn't you James?" she snapped as Harry wiped snot down her front.

He ignored her. She studied him a little more carefully as he searched for the dummy. He had dark circles round his weary eyes and his skin looked far too old for a man in his early twenties, "You look tired," she said quietly, her voice losing all of its arrogance, tucking two fingers under his chin and forcing it up so he would look in her eyes.

He laughed bitterly, "I'm a daddy, I'm a husband and I'm on the run from your people. It is pretty draining,"

* * *

"James. Please listen to me," Bella said crouching down on her knees in front of him, "You've denied him two times before; deny him now and he will kill you,"

"We've escaped him before, we'll escape him again, thank you very much Bella," he snapped rather rudely. He felt confused - she had gone from being this strange woman, back to his Bella, the Bella he known from Hogwarts.

"No you don't understand," she insisted, "He believes you to be a great danger to him and I'm not naive James and I'm not innocent - I have seen what he does and he will never stop hunting you. Not until you have either turned to our cause or been killed," she looked right into his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, "Why are you warning me,"

"Because I don't want you to die," she said simply, "James, he'll kill me if he finds out that I've warned you," she paused for a hesitant breath, "If he does find you I only ask that-"

"Found it," he said, waving Harry's dummy in front of her face, distracting her from the conversation in hand, "I'll have my son back now thank you,"

* * *

She handed the child back gladly, for Harry had just head butted her in the jaw. Harry settled down as soon as he had the dummy.

"I appreciate you're trying to help Bella, but I really see no reason to scare monger," he said putting the keys in the door, pushing open the door, "Oy Padfoot, it's me and your favourite Godson in the entire world!"

"James," Bella hissed her eyes flashing.

"I think you'd better go now Bella," he hissed back. He was in the hallway now, whispering to her with his head around the door.

"James - no James, please let me speak - James there's been a Prophe-" she yelled. But her had already shut the door in her face, "You fucking idiot," she screeched bitterly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Lighting one with the tip of her wand, she looked darkly at the house, "And you have the cheek to call me arrogant. You fucking idiot," she whispered. Without another word, she strutted off towards the horizon.

* * *

"Hey Prongs were you talking to yourself out there?" asked Sirius poking his head around the side of the door. He was dressed in his usual muggle attire - a habit he had grown used to whilst he was still living with James' family. He also had an fuchsia pink apron on which clashed horribly with his orange jumper.

"Oh yes Padfoot, it's the only way to be sure of intelligent conversation," he said sarcastically. James dumped his bag in the hallway and followed the smell of what Sirius called 'cooking' into the Kitchen, "Smell that Harry? That is the smell of food cooked by an imbecile,"

"Ooh ouch, I'm wounded. Keep offending me like that you'll be second on my hit list - wait, scratch that, you'd be third on my list - I think Bellatrix would beat my mother out of first place any day,"

"So I'm right up there with your mother and cousin. I feel loved. Thanks for that,"

"Any time mate, any time," smirked Sirius, "Hey how come Harry's got lipstick on his face?"

James looked down. Harry had got lipstick on his face, probably by from Bellatrix.

"Lily," he announced as he wiped it off of Harry's face.

"Yeah? And my name is Godric Gryffindor - I really need to get myself a baby, they're like chick magnets. Imagine how many hot girls would come over to you to coo over 'the cute little baby' and then you could like ask them out to dinner and shit,"

"Yeah? Let me know how that one goes," smiled James.

"Taa Prongs," said Sirius taking that as permission to take Harry outside into the world to help Sirius find a girl mad enough to go out with him. He grabbed Harry from his daddy's grasp before he could say quidditch, "Come on little man, you and I are going chick hunting,"

James laughed, though this happiness was not going to last. Already he could feel nerves writhing in his stomach, gnawing away at these golden moment of peace during war. Somehow, he had a horrible feeling that there may be some truth in Bellatrix's words.

* * *

**Author's Note: In this fic, I kinda wanted to draw parallel situations between the Snape/Lily relationship with a ship that I really quite like James/Bella - I wanted to do it to show that Bella and Snape's paths could easily have been swapped (in my mind anyway, not JK's xP). To show it could very well have been Bella being a triple agent for Dumbledore because of her love for James instead of Snape because of his love for Lily**

**Hope you enjoyed (reviews would be the shizzle). ;)**

**Ellie x**


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